Blind Date
by chilibreath
Summary: Cameron's friend has had it with her man problems. Time to take action.
1. Chapter 1

Remember my OC, Joy Medina? She's back--as a matchmaker.

This fic is set around the same time as the **Act Your Age** episode in Season 3.

* * *

Blind Date

It started on a Saturday at the wedding reception of a mutual friend. After Cameron over-toasted to the couple's future happiness and broke one champagne flute while tapping a teaspoon against it, right out of the blue, she confessed to her friend Joy about the sex deal she made—then broke—with Chase. In reaction, Joy nearly sprayed Sprite and lemon all over a distinguished middle-aged couple sitting across the table.

Several back thumps and dribbles later, Joy carefully brought some dignity back to herself as much as possible before grabbing Cameron's arm and a table napkin from the table and dragging her off to the ladies' room. Once inside, Joy surprised her slightly intoxicated friend with a hoarse declaration: "You need a friggin' matchmaker."

Grasping the edge of a deep, transparent glass sink for support, Cameron asked thickly, "Huh?"

Joy ignored that while she placed a handkerchief under an open tap. After wetting it considerably, she squeezed out the excess water and dabbed a corner of the cloth on her bared shoulders and covered bosom. "_Specifically_, setting you up on a blind date," she said calmly. "I think that's the term used nowadays—duh! Obviously, you were never meant to wear the widow's weeds for very long, hon. You have to hook up with someone who's not working at the same hospital as you. You need a man in your life again…"

Cameron groaned. "I am not ready to fall in lo—"

"Did I say 'fall in love immediately'?" Joy cut in sharply. She was still looking at herself in the mirror, rubbing hard on the upper right corner of her black Monique Lhuillier knock-off dress. "Obviously, I don't expect you to fall head over heels with the guy, but at least _consider_ him. Yeah, I have a bachelor in mind for ya, and don't you worry: he's quite easy on the eyes and feminine senses."

It was now Cameron's turn to snort as the door to the ladies' room opened. "You're a plastic surgeon…"

"Who specializes in _reconstructive_ surgery, and no, he's never had anything _done_," Joy butted in. She glared at an elderly woman wearing an atrocious shade of violet, who had stopped mid-way to the middle toilet to give Joy and her attempts at cleaning up a sanctimonious sneer. The older woman huffed and shuffled into a stall.

While Joy had her stare-off, Cameron slurred on, "...of course he's going to be _easy _on the eyes; it'll ruin your reputation if you set me up with some Quasimodo."

Cameron started to snicker hysterically, thinking hazily that it was the funniest joke she could come up with. This made Joy pause at her task in order to turn the cold tap and soak her hands under it before she flicked her wet hands over her friend's face. Cameron yelped as the icy droplets hit her face.

"Better than slapping you, you lush," Joy muttered, walking towards the hand dryer. "So, are you game?"

Cameron shrugged, wiping her face while Joy shook her hands under the dryer. "What have I got to lose? I'm already a hot topic over at the nurses' station, and my boss makes fun of me for going out with Chase."

"Is that a yes?" Joy asked, turning around to face her friend.

Cameron nodded.

The next thing Cameron knew, there was an ear-splitting squeal that made her wince. The old woman in the stall made loud tsking noises.

"I'll send you a picture of Denny tomorrow!" Joy gushed. She brushed away imaginary lint off Cameron's royal blue formal dress, whipped out her cellphone and ushered her slightly sobered friend out the ladies' room so that she could get some privacy for the call.

**---**

On Tuesday, after checking House's stack of e-mail and snail-mail, Cameron opened her own inbox and found an e-mail from Denny Winchester. Cameron marveled, as she had done countless times, on what her friend could do. When Ligaya "Joy" Medina said that she'll have a name for Allison Cameron by Monday, she delivered (in a matter of speaking) on Sunday.

Joy had prepared Cameron Sunday night; she sent Cameron an e-mail with an attachment of Denny's picture. Even Cameron had to admit—to herself, for now—that Joy knew how to pick them; the adorably-named Denny had wavy black hair, beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, and a broad, handsome face made even more appealing with a sensuous smile and dimples.

The dimples did it; Joy knew her so well.

From what Cameron could tell from the picture—Denny was standing next to Joy, and both were raising mugs of beer in the air—her potential date was about as tall as House, but with a more muscular frame. The longer she looked at the man, the more she started to like the idea of being paired up with him.

According to Joy (from the e-mail):

"_He's an ophthalmologist and operates his own clinic with his brother-in-law, who's a dentist—don't ask. In the summer, he coaches basketball to a group of 12-year-olds and does the occasional charity doctor thing every year—you know, free check-ups and stuff. Obviously, he's available, or I wouldn't have tried to pair him up with you. He broke up with his last girlfriend about a year ago. The picture I attached here was after we celebrated a common patient's recovery from a nasty car accident. I helped Dr. War fix the guy's face, and Denny removed a piece of debris from the guy's eye. Juicy, ain't it?_"

Grinning broadly, Cameron opened the e-mail from Denny. The grin morphed into a genuine "o" of awe—Denny proposed taking her to dinner at a five-star hotel twenty minutes away from the hospital on Friday night.

"_I have heard a lot of good things about you from Joy._ _Hope to find out more about you in person. Can't wait for Friday night. Want me to pick you up at work or meet you at the Yankee Doodle Tap Room?"_

Cameron wrote back: _I know the way to the Nassau Inn. I'll meet you there before 8PM. Allison_

Cameron clicked on "Send" with a flourish and a soft "Yes!", twirled around on her swivel chair—and came face-to-torso with House.

"Somebody's perky," he said in a tone that wasn't mocking—but knowing House, she knew it wasn't long before he launched one of his barbs. And he didn't disappoint her: "So, who are you screwing around with now? Is it Foreman, Wilson, or—dare I say it?—Cuddy?"

Buoyed by her upcoming "blind date", Cameron amassed the remainder of her calm and replied coolly, "Even if I was 'screwing around' with somebody new, I wouldn't tell you." As she spoke, Cameron logged out of her e-mail account and cleared the history and memory of the laptop as nonchalantly as she could without arousing House's interest. The remnants of her pride would not allow House prying into this aspect of her "moving on" phase.

Sitting at the other end of the conference room table, Foreman shook his head, fighting to keep a grin off his face. Sometimes, Cameron made him proud instead of making him cringe. Overall, he was glad Chase was given House's Clinic hours right now…

House reacted to Cameron's nonchalance with a raised brow, and then gave her laptop a speculative glance. _Damn_, Cameron thought.

---

The week flew by quickly. It had been pretty eventful, what with treating a little girl blossoming too quickly and filling her medical chart with symptoms more common to a senior citizen. Then, her brother had to be admitted, right after admitting he had a crush on Cameron and was openly hostile to Chase. When Cameron related to Joy over the phone about the boy squeezing her ass, Joy made a hysterical combination of snorting, choking, wheezing, and laughing. Cameron paused in front of her closet, wondering if she should call 911 for Joy, until her friend managed to collect herself.

"Are you—_hee hee hee!_—are you going to press charges against the kid for sexual assault?" Joy asked hoarsely before laughing like a maniac again.

Cameron just rolled her eyes; she had her cordless phone sandwiched between her left ear and shoulder as she held up a dress for inspection. "Nah—his copping a feel and biting Chase were results of too much testosterone in his system. Turns out his dad was using an 'enhancement' cream in mass quantities while making out with his kids' teacher. He was oozing so much testosterone, he passed it on to his kids whenever he touched them, and it resulted in making their hormones go wild."

"Testosterone, huh?" Joy muttered, and Cameron could hear Joy making an obnoxious slurping sound, followed by a very loud gulp. "I understand how it would affect the son, but the girl? Wouldn't testosterone make the girl sprout hair on her chest or make her ten inches taller?"

That made Cameron frown. "That _did_ cross my mind, but that's how this girl reacted to the testosterone." Cameron dropped the first dress she held up and picked out another one from her closet. "Man, I am getting all kinds of nervous about this date, and it's not because you set me up with Denny."

"Is it because of the venue?" Joy asked. "I know it's pretty classy: Denny's uncle is a shareholder at the Nassau Inn, and naturally, he gets some perks when dining there…"

"No!" Cameron cried, dropping the second dress and picking out another one from her closet. Without giving a closer look at the dress, Cameron dropped it with its fellows and walked towards her bed, sitting gracelessly down on it. "It's my boss…"

"Oh no," Joy groaned.

"…I can't help but feel he's going to sabotage the date, somehow. I heard from the nurses that he did the same thing weeks ago to Dr. Cuddy when SHE was on a date, and he messed around with Wilson when he heard that he took Cuddy to some play."

On the other end of the line, Joy did some eye-rolling of her own. "Did you _tell him_ about your date tomorrow?"

Cameron sighed. "I didn't, but I think he's going to find out anyway. That's why I asked for an early leave on Friday from _Cuddy_. Told her I had an important dinner with a—friend."

Joy sniggered. "I just hope you don't get called into a case tomorrow. And as for your boss…"

---

While Joy and Cameron plotted, somebody inside the Department of Diagnostics was burning the midnight oil.

House was surprised at Cameron's finesse at dodging his questions, but he was even more surprised at the way she held her own. He suspected that it had something to do with her request for an early time-out this Friday and whatever it was inside her e-mail inbox.

He tamped down the gnawing suspicion that Cameron really was getting over him…

His fifth attempt at hacking into Cameron's e-mail had worked (Cameron really shouldn't use HIS name as part of the password, or leave her laptop in the conference room). He rubbed his hands in triumph and began to scan the contents of her inbox. He selected two of the most likely messages: one from a Medina, J. and the other from Denny W.

When House was done reading the e-mails, he started breathing deeply in and out…

* * *

_Note: Nassau Inn is a real place in Princeton. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own House, MD.  
A/N: I'm experiencing a case of fluffiness, but some really good suggestions posted in the first chapter curbed it somewhat. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

* * *

Friday arrived.

Despite the plan she concocted with Joy, Cameron could not help but feel anxious, which was silly. House didn't know about her date tonight. Only Joy knew about her date; all Cameron told Cuddy was that she was going somewhere to meet up with a friend, which she would reschedule if there was a case.

As Joy asked her countless times, why _should_ House care who she dates? And why should _she_ care if he (supposedly) cares?

Fortunately, they didn't have a new case since the children of the "erectile-impatient" man had been discharged. Cameron kept herself busy by doing some Clinic hours, reading up on some medical articles, and offering her assistance at the Department of Immunology—anything that would keep her out of House's line of vision. Throughout the day, she tried to remember Joy's advice before they disconnected last night: "_House already proved how much he doesn't care. And if he find out, so what? You're only answerable to him at work, not when you're out to play."_

Unfortunately, Cameron could not get rid of the strange feeling that she was abandoning someone.

---

At four thirty in the afternoon, Cameron prepared to leave. She approached the Department cautiously, looking around the corner to see if anyone was inside the conference room or if the blind-drawn office was occupied by a man with a trollish demeanor. Satisfied that the coast was clear (and feeling ridiculous), Cameron walked towards the conference room and entered it.

She picked up her bag and jacket, turned around, and started walking towards the door. She was about to open the door when she heard a loud and obviously exaggerated hacking cough.

"Shit!" Cameron thought. She hadn't checked the office properly…

"Going somewhere, Dr. Cameron?" House asked pleasantly behind her. _Too_ pleasantly.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling quietly, Cameron composed herself, turned around, and replied, "I am," in a voice that nearly betrayed her. "I already cleared it with Cuddy; we have no cases to work on, so I'm free to pursue my early leave. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Cameron turned back to the door.

"Wait."

Cameron fought the urge to roll her eyes and turned around. House moved from his position under the door connecting his office to the Conference room. She swallowed and held her ground as House came closer and closer. She blinked furiously when he stopped; she was almost nose-to-nose with him as he started to lean over her.

The blue eyes were getting closer, bluer. House's lips were millimeters away from hers; all Cameron had to do was pucker up...

"Have fun," he whispered against her nose.

House turned away from Cameron to hobble back to his office, leaving her standing dumbly beside the door, shaken _and_ stirred.

---

Cameron almost didn't make it to her apartment at the preordained time of five fifteen. As she pulled up to the curb, Cameron could see Joy leaning against the door of the apartment building, playing a game on her Playstation portable. The sight almost made Cameron drive over the curb; Joy reminded her of someone—except for the obvious, like that she's female, Asian, and about seven to eight inches shorter in height.

When she exited her car, the first thing she heard from Joy was "You missed."

Typical Joy. "I was actually trying to drive up the stairs," Cameron replied dryly.

Joy snorted, picking up a large backpack set near her feet and tucking her Playstation inside it. Then she peered closely at her friend. "You look flushed," she announced flatly.

Cameron attempted to smile, but with her frazzled state of mind, all she could come up was a half-hearted smirk. "I'm just a little tired," she lied. In truth, Cameron was charged up with—something extra after the near-kiss back in the conference room. She hoped that her sharp-eyed friend would take the hint and drop the subject.

Thankfully, Joy did. "Let's go! Shower time—God knows what nasty stuff rained on you at that hospital..."

---

_That evening…_

Joy shifted on the bar stool. She was sitting at the bar of the Yankee Doodle Tap Room, sipping a glass of hot spiced cider and enjoying their excellent Pub fries. From her vantage point, she was smug to see Cameron and Denny getting along well. She could not see Cameron's face (she was sitting with her back towards Joy), but she secretly enjoyed the expressions playing over Denny's boyish face and the animated way Cameron waved her hands in the air as she shared an anecdote.

The sight reminded Joy of the double-date she and Cameron went out on years ago. Joy's date, Eddie Mead, later turned out to be a muscle-bound nut who secretly wore women's thong underwear. Cameron's date, Jason, was the wonderful man who would bring her temporary happiness and a lot of grief.

Joy shook herself out of that chapter and focused on more recent events…

After the initial introductions, Joy told Cameron and Denny, "I'm going to hang out at the bar, leave you kids to marinate in some good ol' Yankee Doodle Tap Room ambience."

Denny, who looked quite dashing in a white dress shirt, black slacks and black sports jacket, raised an eyebrow at Joy. "You sure, Joy?"

"Sure I'm sure!" Joy gushed, reaching out to squeeze their arms. "What am I, your chaperone? You know me, I thrive in the dark and the alcohol-laden areas. If all goes well for me at the bar, _I_ probably won't notice you're here! Now, _garcon_," Joy motioned to a passing waiter, who approached them with a half-smile, "show this lovely couple to your most romantic, secluded corner, there's a chap!"

Allison chuckled as the waiter led the way. Her fair skin glowed in her shoulder-baring, royal blue dress. Despite Joy's personal vow to wear only blacks, whites, and grays in public, she could kick Jay Manuel's ass when it comes to color and style, as she was the one who suggested to her friend to buy the dress months before.

For a first-time matchmaker, Joy thought that the chemistry between them could have been worse, but for now, she was happy to be wrong (about them not liking each other). Denny couldn't keep his eyes off her friend, and Cameron relaxed after sampling Denny's dry humor.

Joy sighed, then looked at the doorway that lead from the Yankee Doodle Tap Room to the front of the Nassau Inn. The _maitre'd_ accompanied a silver-haired man and a barely-dressed blond woman to a more secluded table in the room. A waitress wearing her dark hair in a bun had stepped up to the podium and was entertaining the queries of two men who approached the entrance to the Tap Room.

Joy peered at them. Neither of them looked like they could be Cameron's boss. Well, obviously, none of them was leaning on a cane.

Joy shook her head. She couldn't comprehend her friend's fixation with her boss and her trepidation at his possible/supposed interference in her personal life. The plan she came up with was just something to help Cameron enjoy her date with Denny. The things she comes up with; Joy suspected her friend really got a bad deal out of her "fling" with her co-worker and made her unhinge at the prospect of dating.

That, and her megalomaniac boss.

"Hey Joy."

Joy nearly choked on a Pub fry. She swallowed, took a swig from her cider, and faced Denny.

"What? Leaving already?" she gasped as Denny gently patted her on the back.

"Have to," he answered in apologetic tones. He raised his beeper, "Got a page from the hospital—some kind of emergency with one of my patients."

Joy raised an eyebrow. "You're an OPHTHALMOLOGIST. What kind of emergency requires your help that the other guys can't handle?"

Denny gave Joy an exasperated look. "Apparently, SOMETHING that has to do with the patient's eyes. Anyway, I asked Allison for a rain check. She's great; can't wait to meet her again. Thanks, sorry!" He bussed her cheek and ran off.

Joy snorted. She told the bartender to take her bill to the table before heading for it. She sat in the seat Denny vacated and looked at Cameron.

"We didn't get to cover _that_ unexpected development," Joy muttered. She looked at the partially eaten remains of Denny's Cajun fried calamari. "Sorry, Al," she sighed.

Cameron just picked at her pear and brie salad. "He told me not to worry about the bill, including your Pub fries and cider. The people here know him."

Joy's eyes widened. "How did he know what I ordered?"

Cameron shrugged and popped a piece of brie into her mouth.

"So, what do you think of him now that you've seen him in the flesh?" Joy asked.

Cameron smiled. "He's funny; he told me a lot about the kids he helped, and he was starting to talk about a woman who keeps coming in for consults even though her eyesight's a perfect 20/20…"

--

_Princeton General_

Nurse Pat was manning the station when she looked up blearily into the expectant face of Dr. Denny Winchester.

"I received a page about Mr. Howard," Denny said gruffly. "Has he—"

"No one paged you, Dr. Winchester," the nurse said. "Nothing's wrong with Mr. Howard. He's sleeping peacefully in his room; Dr. Connor just checked in on him when he made the rounds."

Denny looked troubled. He whipped out his pager and showed it to the nurse. "_Someone_ paged me about Mr. Howard…"

Nurse Pat looked at the message that flashed in the green LCD screen. "Not from here, that's for sure. Sorry, doc."

* * *

A/N, 2: Apologies to Jay Manuel. 


End file.
